A Nursery Rhyme For Young Imperialists Poem by Terry Dawson

Mzilagazi knew the way to spoil his brave ndunas' day
Up in the hills to their dismay he'd throw them off the mountain.
And his repute then fared and neared and old black raven he declared
Mzilagazi is most feared, old man Dingane not countin'.

Then one called Rudd brought paper there; old Lobengula thought it queer
And his great impis stand and stare at Rudd and his Concession.
And then a thing that brought the dark, while in the tree-top sang the lark,
Old Lobengula placed his mark upon the Rudd Concession! !

By wagon and horse the white man came through lands of wild tribe untame
And ever since have borne the blame for bringing in great progress.
Then in place where sets the sun a modern city was begun
From where new nation was well run heralding a time of progress

At Bembezi please be assured the six pounders there loudly roared
And kept at bay the heathen hoard turning the tide of battle.
Lobengula northward fled, the Matabele nation bled
Then when all was done and said the victor took the cattle.

Now Wilson led a light patrol, their mounts and speed gave them control
But all of that was over-rolled; a tragic fate was dawning.
Now back to back the valiant band faced the foe and made their stand
And all the world will understand there followed time of morning.

~~~~~~

Ambitious Milner, so we're told had eye upon the Jo'burg gold
The plan was laid, the scheme was bold; said Rhodes, we'll simply take it!
Now Jameson raided the Rand, the raid did not quite go as planed.
The Uitlanders failed to lend a hand and poor Jim didn't make it!

~~~~~~

Great witch doctors they tried and tried - white numbers grew, the rains denied
And furthermore the cattle died; it was a great disaster!
The mediums they read the signs, they said of whites who dig in mines
It's them who conjure these designs and cause us this disaster.

Our ancestors they bid us rise said wizened old Mlilo wise
And all the whites will flee in cries, their bullets will turn to water!
Now all the witches cry and shout, Mlilo's dead without a doubt,
Shot through the heart by Yankee scout whose bullets weren't of water!

Now this is the plan we beautiful, upon the night the moon is full
We'll slash and stab and burn and kill every single white man!
In dark of night they stealthy crept then upon the sleeping leapt
They slit their throats, the angles wept, this is the native war plan!

The scattered whites were scared and tense, but made a plan for their defence
To Bulawayo all and thence into a hasty laager.
The thing became a phoney war, the 'creep and pounce' would serve no more
The rising stalled and that's for sure into a boring saga!

Over the tapping Morse key bent the hero Routledge hasty sent:
The natives here are malcontent! Mazoe is in laager! !
With dashing flair in martial art the daring colonel played his part
He hasty made an armored cart; his name was Pennyfather.

Into the air a cheer was sent as down the road the colonel went
To fix the ones of malcontent; eternal rest thereafter!
And fast approached the dark of night as Salisbury's fortress came in sight
For all about was great delight with cries and cheers and laughter.

The Shona nation on its knees, while hung from stout msasa trees
Two witches turning in the breeze
And peace returned thereafter.
Now please attend this all concerned, this is the lesson to be learned
That strife and war should both be spurned or bye bye life and laughter.
Or -
In peril's face by courage earned freedom from disaster!